


That night I was filled up with you

by electricblueninja



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, One Shot, Reunion, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricblueninja/pseuds/electricblueninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, the story behind Dongwoo's rap in Paradise</p>
            </blockquote>





	That night I was filled up with you

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I only own my imagination

When Dongwoo got back to their room, it was dark.

 

He couldn’t see anything, and couldn’t tell if Myungsoo was home yet or not, so he got undressed as quietly as he could by the door, leaving his clothes there in a pile.

 

He could deal with them in the morning: just now, he cared far more about getting to his side of the bed without disturbing Myungsoo than he did about the fact that the channel coordis would kill him for wrinkling his white linen suit. His dongsaeng had just gotten back from filming his Japanese drama. He’d no doubt be dead with exhaustion, and the last thing Dongwoo wanted to do was wake him.

 

They should’ve known better than to dress him in white linen, anyway. There was a reason the Woollim company coordis dressed him in hard-wearing denim and zany patterns all the time. He was far too active for delicate materials and pale colours, and this would just be another addition to the long lineage of maltreated outfits to prove it.

 

He stripped down to his underwear and pushed the suit into a mound by the side of the door, just in case Myungsoo wasn’t home yet and leaving it in front of the door would be leaving it in greater harm’s way. Then he extended a leg out into the darkness in front of him, feeling with the pad of his foot for the edge of the mattress.

 

Found it, and stretched his foot a little further forward, feeling for any warmth or some part of Myungsoo that might be in the way.

 

Nothing.

 

He let out a breath, relieved, and stepped forward with confidence, only to have his foot collide with something warm, solid and Myungsoo-like, causing him to stumble and fall over.

 

At least he managed to fall backwards, instead of onto his roommate.

 

He heaved a sigh. Undignified, but then, he and indignity were no strangers. ‘So you are home,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Hi, Myungsoo.’

 

‘Mmmmmnnnfffuhhhh,’ Myungsoo replied, barely stirring, which was about as much as Dongwoo expected. Of all the members, he and Myungsoo had the most similar sleeping habits, which was ostensibly why they slept together. Of course, there was that other little business where they could hold each other without feeling weird about it, but that was beside the point. It only happened when they were sleeping. It wasn’t like it was deliberate or anything. He reached forward to pat Myungsoo in a firm, manly way, hoping it might make it through the sleep filter to let Myungsoo know he was here and would like his side of the bed back. The muscular curve under his hand, though, by some strange coincidence, was Myungsoo’s butt, and the firm and manly intent of the gesture now seemed...misplaced.

 

Never mind getting his usual side of the bed, he decided, wrinkling his nose and spinning himself around so that he could lie down. Didn’t matter. He folded his arms behind his head, using them as a pillow, and stared into the inky blackness that must, at some point, turn into the ceiling.

 

He was still reflecting on Infinite H’s tv appearance when a strong, slender arm crept over his waist, and Myungsoo shuffled in his direction.

 

He was surprised to discover that Myungsoo wasn’t wearing a shirt. He knew that he wasn't because about three inches of Myungsoo’s lean, warm torso were now pressed against Dongwoo’s chest. Which was strange. Dongwoo had no real pattern governing sleepwear or a lack thereof, but Myungsoo usually wore pajamas.

 

‘Welcome home, hyung,’ said Myungsoo, his voice low and thick with sleep, and Dongwoo embarrassed himself by getting goosebumps at the way the words rumbled through Myungsoo’s chest, straight into his skin.

 

‘Hey,’ he said softly, unsure whether Myungsoo had actually made it to consciousness, or whether he was just burbling in his sleep. ‘Welcome home yourself.’

 

Myungsoo made some more incoherent noises and snuggled closer, his face pressing against Dongwoo’s collarbone, his hair pressed against his neck. ‘Missed you in Japan,’ he said, and Dongwoo still wasn’t quite sure what he was dealing with, because sometimes sleeping Myungsoo was a little...friendlier than waking Myungsoo, but sleeping Myungsoo didn’t talk much. He decided to stay still.

 

‘Missed you too,’ he said, which was truer than he’d like to admit. He hated sleeping alone, and had ended up making Hoya stay with him most nights. Of course, it hadn’t been quite the same: he’d never wake up in the middle of the night to find a long, muscular leg flung over his waist, or an arm across his shoulders. But he didn’t really want that from Hoya, anyway.

 

‘S’not what I mean. I didn’t want to just see you.’

 

Dongwoo wondered briefly if a fortnight was long enough for his roommate to develop a sleep-talking habit. He was sounding pretty lucid, but still like he was talking through syrup. Then he said, ‘I wanted to touch you,’ and Dongwoo nearly choked on air.

 

He covered it with a snort and a laugh. ‘You’re asleep,’ he told Myungsoo lightly.

 

There was silence for a little while. Myungsoo’s fingers has started moving slowly back and forth across the sensitive skin under Dongwoo’s armpit, and he failed to repress his shudder.

 

Soft hair brushed against his neck as Myungsoo shook his head. ‘I’m not, actually,’ he said, and his fingers slid up from Dongwoo’s ribcage to the other side of his neck, holding him steady as soft lips pressed against his throat.

 

‘Myungsoo-yah,’ he heard himself say, and it was exactly what he’d intended to say, but it didn’t come out sounding how he’d planned. At all. He’d intended it to get Myungsoo’s attention, to divert him from whatever was happening, but it came out sounding breathy and strange, and instead of distracting Myungsoo he had encouraged him. He knew this because Myungsoo’s soft lips parted, and hard teeth and a hot tongue fastened on Dongwoo’s neck.

 

A ripple of pleasure shot through Dongwoo’s body, so visceral that he moaned in spite of himself. Myungsoo responded with increased intensity, his hand tightening on the other side of his neck. He began to suck, drawing Dongwoo’s skin up against his teeth, the movements of his tongue slow and insistent, his fingers sliding up into Dongwoo’s hair and tangling there, pulling Dongwoo’s head backwards to improve his access.

 

Dongwoo went limp. He couldn’t think about anything but the heat of Myungsoo’s mouth. Didn’t want to. But after something between an eternity and thirty seconds, Myungsoo pulled his lips away. Dongwoo tried to repress his growl of resentment, but it came out anyway.

 

‘Shouldn’t’ve called me while you had Hoya here,’ Myungsoo murmured, his voice still a soft rumble, sending electricity into Dongwoo’s skin. His fingers tightened in Dongwoo’s hair as his tone became accusing. ‘You let him stay with you.’

 

Dongwoo whimpered. And not, he realised, with a moment’s discomfiture, in pain.

 

He pulled his arms free from under his head and pressed his palms against Myungsoo’s chest, intending to push him away, but the hard nipples under his palms clarified what he already subconsciously knew: Myungsoo was enjoying this. A lot.

 

He knew it even more when Myungsoo grabbed his hands and pushed them back over his head, exposing his naked torso. He could still barely see anything; there was basically no light in the room, but he could have sworn he could feel Myungsoo smiling at him, and his suspicions were confirmed when Myungsoo’s lips pressed against his ribcage, that same spot, just below his armpit. He squirmed at the intensity of the sensation, and Myungsoo’s mouth, Myungsoo’s smiling mouth, traced its way slowly back towards the midline of Dongwoo’s chest, moving slowly and patiently over his skin with lascivious determination.

 

‘Don’t let anyone else in,’ said Myungsoo, finally, before scraping his teeth with almost-painful gentleness across Dongwoo’s nipple. ‘I’ve learned my lesson, hyung. Next time I go anywhere, I’m taking you with me.’ His mouth moved a little further inwards, and took a firm but gentle hold on the innermost flesh of Dongwoo’s pectoral muscle.

 

There was a possessive edge to his voice that was almost as visceral as his actions for Dongwoo. Goosebumps travelled across his skin in waves at his touch, sure, but when Myungsoo spoke, it was different. It got inside him. His stomach curdled, and he realised that the situation was spinning rapidly out of his control. Not that he’d ever had any control over it, anyway. Myungsoo had been here the whole time, waiting in their bed, waiting for Dongwoo to come home. To do this.

 

Myungsoo’s teeth tightened on Dongwoo’s skin, and he moved his weight over Dongwoo’s body, pushing his legs apart with one of his knees.

 

‘Myungsoo-yah,’ he whispered finally, feeling the head of his cock begin to swell -- but Myungsoo already knew, and one of his hands was tracing a line down Dongwoo’s body, moving down between his legs without any hesitation to cup him softly, and then to take hold of the waistband of his underwear and tug downwards. The pressure of Myungsoo’s knee against his thigh subsided as Myungsoo pulled away to remove the offending item of clothing, and then, mission accomplished, his hand was back, cupping Dongwoo’s dick and balls. The knee was replaced with the full hard length of his cotton-clad thigh, and Myungsoo’s own crotch was pressed against Dongwoo’s hip as he lay alongside him.

 

‘No one else,’ said Myungsoo, and Dongwoo knew without seeing that Myungsoo was staring right at him. He knew without seeing what expression Myungsoo was wearing, too. Those eyes. Myungsoo was handsome, sure; nobody would deny that. But it was when he got that look in his eyes, you just did what he said. End of story.

 

‘Don’t...don’t want anyone else,’ he panted, and Myungsoo grunted with satisfaction, his long fingers sliding all the way between Dongwoo’s legs to stroke along his ass crack. His other hand was reaching overhead, fumbling for something in the dark, and after a moment when his irritation was palpable, he found what he was looking for, and the air was filled with the smell of strawberries. Really fake strawberries.

 

Even delirious with lust, Dongwoo found this amusing. He laughed as Myungsoo wriggled down his body, but his laughter was cut short by the application, with renewed vigour, of Myungsoo’s mouth to his abdomen. This time Myungsoo bit down hard, on the soft dip between muscle and hipbone, and Dongwoo had to bite down on his own lip to stop himself from crying out. The sound of Myungsoo’s hands rubbing together provided soft background noise to the pleasure-pain of his tongue and teeth pulling at Dongwoo’s tight skin, and Dongwoo closed his eyes and willed himself to breathe in again, to not be overwhelmed by the onslaught of feeling.

 

He wanted this. That fact became abundantly clear when Myungsoo pressed two fingers gently against his asshole, and his body responded by drawing him in. No resistance at all. A slight discomfort as he stretched out tight rings of muscle in that unfamiliar way, but no pain, and no resistance. His hands found their way to Myungsoo’s shoulders, his fingers sinking into the tight knots of tension in the younger man’s upper back, coaxing, encouraging him with his hands as he drew him inside with his body.

 

Dongwoo realised they were both trembling as Myungsoo moaned into the mouthful of his skin.

 

Who knew how long they’d been wanting this? Myungsoo’s dick was so hard that it was hurting where it dug into Dongwoo’s thigh. He shifted, pushing Myungsoo’s weight between his legs, and curved his back, pushing himself down into the mattress so he could take Myungsoo’s fingers deeper.

 

‘More,’ he said breathlessly, and Myungsoo added a third, and a fourth, his fingers folding together neatly.

 

Neat and precise. That was Myungsoo. But he was growing impatient, now, Dongwoo could tell, because he was biting harder. And Dongwoo...Dongwoo felt like he was going to spill his load any moment, just because of the way he could imagine Myungsoo looked down there; his straight, delicate nose all crumpled with animalism; his lips all swollen from the friction of his own teeth and tongue, his actions exposing just the smallest glimpse of perfect white teeth that disappeared into caramel skin…

 

Suddenly, there was nothing. No Myungsoo. No teeth and no fingers, and Dongwoo groaned his dissatisfaction.

 

‘No, no; Myungsoo, no --’

 

He wasn’t sure whether he was telling Myungsoo off for leaving him hanging or simply observing his absence, but thankfully it didn’t last long. He felt Myungsoo’s hand around the base of his cock, and Myungsoo’s cock at the entrance of his asshole. Dongwoo pushed his hips towards Myungsoo, inviting him in. But Myungsoo waited, deliberately, until Dongwoo’s body was undulating in a wordless expression of need before he tightened his grip on Dongwoo’s erection and slid inside of him.

 

All Dongwoo managed was a strange sound of relief and satisfaction at the sensation. Myungsoo wasn’t a porn king or anything. He wasn’t huge. But damn if he didn’t feel like the Empire State Building down there, if a building could be slick and hot and pulsate. The pressure around the base of his own dick eased as Myungsoo took back his hand, and then both were under Dongwoo’s hips, lifting insistently upwards. Obediently, Dongwoo bent his knees and hooked his feet together behind Myungsoo’s back to curl his body upwards. Myungsoo moved up onto his knees, his cock never less than a tantalising inch inside of him.

 

Then, when he had Dongwoo how he wanted him, he thrust down.

 

The result was...Dongwoo tried desperately to mute himself, but it was hard, so hard when fireworks were exploding behind his eyes. Myungsoo was gentle but relentless: slow, slow, fast; shallow, deep, shallow; he toyed with him, keeping him on edge, working out how to make their bodies work together, filling him to the extent he wasn’t sure they were different people any more. Maybe they would be different people again, later, but not now. He could feel his own muscles like they belonged to someone else, his thighs burning as he clung to Myungsoo’s waist. Sweat drenched his skin: some his, some Myungsoo’s. His abdominal muscles convulsed as Myungsoo pushed his legs a little higher and drove a little deeper, and when he changed the angle, slamming into his prostate, rough and unforgiving, it was just about all he could handle, his arms falling uselessly by his sides.

 

Myungsoo was panting with his exertions. He slowed his pace a little, staying deep, almost like he was just rubbing their hips together, but his cock was exactly where Dongwoo wanted it, and he knotted his fingers into the sheets to stop himself arching upwards.

 

One of Myungsoo’s hands grabbed one of his own and moved it to the base of his own throbbing, untended cock. ‘Hold yourself, hyung,’ he said, his speech gravelly and punctuated by the unrelenting thrusts against Dongwoo’s prostate, but still unmistakably commanding. ' _Don’t_ cum.'

 

Dongwoo opened his mouth to protest, but before he could do so, Myungsoo thrust again, and there was nothing gentle about it now. It was urgent and desperate; he could tell Myungsoo was close, because his dongsaeng, usually so quiet and controlled, neat and precise, was grunting and moaning like a caveman. For his part, he obeyed Myungsoo’s command, and tightened his fist around his own dick to the point of pain; a beautiful kind of torture, that lack of friction and entrapment, coupled with the shocks of pleasure of Myungsoo fucking him. A tremor shot through his body, a universal convulsion of overstimulation, and as he clenched around Myungsoo he felt a sudden hot wetness inside of himself.

 

Myungsoo made a long, low sound of absolute gratification. After a moment, he pulled out, slow and careful, and the first glimmer of pain, still mixed with pleasure, flickered in Dongwoo’s nerves. He forgot about it pretty quickly though, because Myungsoo’s hands joined his around his dick, and a hot wet mouth closed gently over the tip of him as his hand was pulled away.

 

Myungsoo made an obscene sound of pleasure as he slid his hands back under Dongwoo’s hips and took him inside his mouth, the sound reverberating up Dongwoo’s shaft straight through the rest of him, and if he’d been on the brink of ecstasy before, he was there now. Myungsoo began to suck, but Dongwoo’s overstimulated dick just couldn’t wait. He choked out the only warning he could think of -- 'Myungsoo!' -- and his body convulsed once more, and he let go into Myungsoo’s mouth.

 

Myungsoo hummed, a low thrum of satisfaction. Dongwoo felt him swallow, before he slid back up the length of Dongwoo's body, hands sliding possessively across his torso, coaxing him gently into a warm embrace.

 

Dongwoo was mostly incapable of movement, but he rolled into the welcoming safety of Myungsoo's outstretched arms, and pressed their foreheads together as they steadied their breathing, the thick scent of sex on Myungsoo's breath.

 

Myungsoo was _still_ smiling.

 

'Paradise, Myungsoo-yah,' he said softly, feeling Myungsoo drop off into satiated sleep.

 

'Our new song's called Paradise.'

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make it worth writing! :3


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